


Day Break

by TheEarlyKat



Series: Warden Leverette [14]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Hug Your OC Day, Levy Get A Day Off, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 17:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7231294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEarlyKat/pseuds/TheEarlyKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 'hug your oc day', meaning I have to do something for the bun, like give him a day off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day Break

The bed was soft and warm and it took Leverette a moment to place his current sleeping arrangements. The day’s prior adventures brought them to an inn within Denerim that was free of bed bugs and still left their pockets rattling with some change, one with a bed large enough to stretch out and still feel the mattress beneath his toes. Levy tried, again, just to make sure, moaning softly when his spine popped, an arm stretched out to wake Zevran. The other side of the bed was empty and he rolled over onto his back, arms splayed. If he kept his eyes closed, he could imagine the elf sitting on the edge or in a chair at the corner table polishing his knives. There was a gentle scraping he couldn’t separate from his mind’s wishful thinking, and Leverette gave into curiosity and slowly blinked fully awake. Alistair sat perched on a chair, leaning back to balance on only two of the legs with the door keeping it upright, his sword between his legs as he checked for chips in the blade.

“Where’s Zevran?” Leverette asked, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm.

Alistair glanced up to greet him with a good morning and answered, “He went out to the town with Leliana for supplies.”

“That sounds like the beginning of a bad joke,” Leverette said. He stretched again, arms above his heads, just for the freedom of feeling his muscles shake without the pull from spending a night on the cold, damp ground. He dropped his hands on the pillow, and after a moment, pulled Zevran’s pillow to his chest. It smelled like leather and whatever spice he worked into his hair to combat the scent of road dust. Levy pressed his nose into the fabric again, trying to identify it, none the better at it than the first time.

Alistair’s chuckle brought him out of his thoughts and he found himself smiling. “An Orlesian and an assassin walk into a trader’s, right?” Leverette laughed. “He’s better at haggling than the rest of us. He’ll make sure we get fair prices-” Leverette raised himself up on an elbow to lift a brow, “-and she’ll make sure he’ll actually pay,” he finished with a snort, hands raised, placating.

“Stealing is not the way of the Maker,” the mage imitated. Alistair corrected him when he cleared his throat and pitched his voice high, repeating the words. Leverette had to sit back on the bed before he toppled over with his laugh, and Alistair apologized by fetching his boots from the door. Levy snatched them away and smacked the warrior with one before strapping his prosthetic on, sliding the boot on after it and standing to find his shirt.

The door swung open and caught him on the ankle before pulling back. An apology was cut off short when the door creaked open again to know against Leverette’s backside and he heard Zevran laugh. Leverette threw his shirt at him.

“I mush prefer you without it anyway, dear Warden.” He drapped the clothing over an arm and dumped it on the bed next to a basket and tossed a pear from it. Leverette fumbled it before it settled in his palms.

“You’d prefer me with less, too.” Zevran’s grin turned wicked.

There was a clatter and Alistair was gathering up his sword and his dropped oilcloth. “I’m not here, I’m not here, I’m not staying here.” Zevran chuckled and tossed him a fruit. Alistair didn’t catch it and instead kicked it out of the room before him.

“He’ll still eat that, you know.”

“Perhaps it will make him sick. Bed-ridden. We will have tp spend another night here.” Zevran fell back, bounced once on the mattress, and pat the space next to him. Leverette took a bite of his fruit and took the invitation to lay next to him. The elf wiped a drop of juice running down his chin with a thumb before rolling over to kiss the mess clean. Levy swatted him away and lt his hand rest on his chest.

“I like it here, too.”


End file.
